26 January 2010
by SlytherinCrowned
Summary: No one would know that these streets were war torn. They’re empty but not destroyed, cracked as if a bomb had fallen... -- It's the final night before the plan is set in motion. A sense of panic is in the air, but they actively deny all possibilities.


Hey, Mihael here coming with a short, sweet one-shot. I was going through my music, and I stumbled upon a certain song that demanded me write a story. So I did.

All the dialogue is lyrics from "Straight Lines" by Dawn Landes. I recommend listening to that song as you read.

So yeah, review once you're done. I've never written a fic like this, and I'd love to know what you think.

Disclaimer: Death Note © Ohba and Obata

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Remember When We Were Young

Mello laid draped over a falling-apart settee. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat brought on from the California heat, his leather temporarily replaced with a thin cotton tank top and shorts. One hand sifted through the wet strands of Matt's hair, playing with the dampness on the back of the younger teen's neck. It was quiet aside from the hum of electric fans and the click-clacking of hand held game buttons. There was a type of peace in the sticky apartment, despite the silent war outside their doorstep.

"Remember when we were young?" Matt suddenly broke that silence between them with his quiet words, soft and nostalgic. It caused Mello's hand to pause momentarily. "How you asked everyone to marry you?"

Mello chuckled softly. He indeed remembered. He asked A before the pressure got to him and he swung from the cieling with tears dried on his cheeks. He asked B before he ran off to commit those murders with his cracked mind. He asked L before he disappeared from their lives to chase down the bad guys. He asked a startled Linda who ran off, red in the face and avoiding him for the rest of the day. He asked Matt beneath the oak tree during a break, receiving an unspoken yes hidden in a gentle between-friends kiss. He even asked Near before the competition mattered too much, and jealousy ate at his own insides. Evidently, Mello had lost himself in his memories as Matt's voice broke him out of his trance.

"All of those songs we sung, changing all the words you used to make the heroine die. Why?" Matt tilted his head back, resting more solidly against the front of the settee. It forced Mello to relocate his hand further into Matt's hair or stop altogether. He chose to stop, sliding down to sit beside the redhead who had paused his game and set it aside.

Mello chose not to answer the question as he wasn't sure himself, and instead asked his own. "Remember when we were right?" A sad smile played about his coral-tinted lips. It seemed like it was a lifetime since they were right. Kira destroyed that when he took L away, when he forced the orphans into a more heated competition since the need for a successor rose ten fold overnight. "God through his darts at stars in the night." _God_. Laughable. A pathetic murderer seemed more like it. He aimed for L, and he certainly hit his target.

Matt changed the subject before Mello could become too bitter, and break off the conversation. "I had a kite." Matt grinned as he spoke, remembering how it always managed to tangle itself on the trees surrounding Wammy's house. They climbed so many times to sort out leaves and string that they hardly broke a sweat after a point.

Mello couldn't help but mirror that expression. "You had a trampoline and a BMX bike you didn't even like."

They had it good when they were at Wammy's. Granted the bike wasn't a BMX, but they always pretended it was. The poor thing couldn't handle what they asked of it like a BMX would, and it ended up in pieces when they tried to jump dirt mounds. As for the trampoline...an old bed sheet and a dozen genius children can create anything. Matt was the one who started it with his need of entertainment. The children would hold onto the edges of the sheet while another would get in the center. That stopped as soon as they were too big for the fabric to hold.

"I don't want to say it's breaking my heart," Matt paused, shifting his gaze away from Mello's humour filled teal gems. "And I don't know where to start. Old friends are falling apart. Time like the name of a man covered, and we both can whine." He leaned over onto Mello's shoulder, ignoring the fact that their wet skin stuck together uncomfortably. "I miss the straight, straight lines."

Mello nodded, resting his head atop Matt's. He'd never admit it aloud, but he missed it all, too. He missed laughing with the other kids. He missed talking with Near. He missed Wammy's. "The old times."

A sadness cast over them, darkening the atmosphere to a dim grey. Both of their minds were miles away, years away. The smell of rain-dampened grass. The sound of Roger yelling at them for pulling some prank...

"Remember when we got caught?" Mello spoke as the thought came to him. "Dirty hands and make-believe drugs we never got."

He meant the powder sugar they stole from the kitchens. That previous night they finally watched an adult movie on Matt's laptop that he fixed up to bypass any blocks. They were both twelve at the time, and didn't really know what they were seeing, but it looked fun so they tried to recreate it best they could. Crack became real sugar. Sex became simple rough housing. Violence became two boys laughing in the middle of their shared room, out of breath and high off sweets. Roger wasn't pleased when he was informed of the missing confectionery. He found the two of them crashed out as their sugar buzz died, and waited until the awoke to lecture them.

Matt put out his forefinger and thumb in the shape of a gun, and pointed it at Mello, pressing against his chest. "Give me all your money," He laughed and it was a sweet sound. Mello just sent him a confused expression that prompted him to explain. "Bank robbers and cowboy cops; make-believe rocks."

Mello let out a short giggle, blushing lightly at the sound. He had to be halfway to delusional to actually giggle. He chalked it up to the heat. He reached between the two of them, and grasped at Matt's hand. "Remember when we held hands? Red rover and marching band." Rather, it was running around with pots and pans, slamming spoons onto the steel surfaces, banging and crashing all through the halls. "You had a tan."

"Staying outside that long's gonna make you, man." Matt looked down at their hands before closing his eyes, shaking his head. "Never going back, never going back again."

Mello bit at his lip, deciding whether to admit what he's been thinking or not. It was just him and Matt. He might as well say it. "I don't want to say it's breaking my heart, and I don't know where to start. Old friends are falling apart, time like the name of a man covered, and we both can whine," He watched Matt's surprised expression at his confession. "I miss the straight, straight lines."

Matt leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Mello's. His midnight eyes uncovered by orange film looked into Mello's. "The old times."

Mello smiled when he realized Matt wasn't going to chastise him. "The old times."

"Remember when we were young?" Matt closed the distance between his and Mello's lips in a chaste kiss.

"Remember when we were young." Mello murmured against Matt, throwing his arms around the red-heads neck, and deepening the kiss.

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And that's that. Took me an hour to write. Not too bad, amirite?

NOW GO REVIEW, DUCKIES! Reviews make the world go ro~und.


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